


Werewolves, apparently.

by bittybae (piscespride)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M, Meet-Cute, sorta - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-05
Updated: 2015-11-05
Packaged: 2018-04-30 04:08:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5149718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/piscespride/pseuds/bittybae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You’re wearing my shirt.” <em>I’m aware of this, thanks, Captain Obvious.</em></p>
<p>“It seems that I am! I, uh. Couldn’t find my own.”</p>
<p>“It’s hanging from my living room fan.” Stiles watched as Boyd breathed in deep, eyes flashing and oh, well then. Werewolf. “I like seeing you in my clothes. You smell nice.” Stiles blushed, face burning hot. <em>Who says things like that?</em></p>
<p><em>Werewolves, apparently</em>, his mind answered.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Werewolves, apparently.

**Author's Note:**

> do you ever just blank out on a title

Stiles flailed his way through the door, thankful to see only half the classroom filled. He had to rush his way here, having fallen asleep at a one night stand’s house when he was supposed to have left, but the beautiful man - Boyd, if his memory serves him right - had convinced him into a few more rounds, and the next thing Stiles knows is he’s waking up to soft snoring in his ear and the alarm clock is reading _11:30 AM_ in bold, red letters. He had to sneak out of the guy’s apartment, not even wearing his own shirt since apparently he lost it last night. There was also the problem of not realizing his art bag was still at his apartment, so he had to have the cab driver take him home and then back here.

 

Taking a seat at the back, Stiles bent over in his chair to gather everything he’d need from his bag. His sketch pad was already here, having left it with the professor, Coraline, to look over and get some feedback. While he was bent over, he missed the model for the day step in and start talking with some of the other people, generally just moving from person to person as they got ready. Stiles still hadn’t seen the model by the time he was fully set up, having set aside some markers, paints and colored pencils for when he was ready. He had his back turned to where the guy was getting undressed, carefully sliding his sketchpad out from a thin space between the wall and Coraline’s desk, where he accidentally knocked it into.

 

“Hi, my name’s Boyd. It’s nice to meet you…?” Stiles flinched, not expecting anyone behind him, and hearing no one until now. He knew that voice, had listened to it praise his mouth last night after he went home with him from the club. Slowly turning around, sketch pad held tight to his chest, he managed a small smile at the man before him, reaching out to shake his hand.

 

“Hey Boyd, long time no see. I should have known you modeled.” Stiles laughed, a strained sound. It had only gotten worse when Boyd never answered him, only looked down at his chest.

 

“You’re wearing my shirt.” _I’m aware of this, thanks, Captain Obvious._

 

“It seems that I am! I, uh. Couldn’t find my own.”

 

“It’s hanging from my living room fan.” Stiles watched as Boyd breathed in deep, eyes flashing and oh, well then. Werewolf. “I like seeing you in my clothes. You smell nice.” Stiles blushed, face burning hot. _Who says things like that?_

 

_Werewolves, apparently_ , his mind answered.

 

“Oh, uh, thank you. If you want, I can stop by and get my shirt after class? You could get yours back too.” Stiles suggested with confidence he most definitely did not have, moving past Boyd and unable to be anything but pleased when he follows, stopping at Stiles’ workstation and slowly untying his robe, eyes on Stiles the whole time.

 

“That’d be nice, Stiles. After class, you said?” Boyd’s belt was now untied, and Stiles felt his mouth salivate at all the skin Boyd showed off, and he bit his lip.

 

“Yeah, after class. See you then, Boyd.”

 

“You definitely will.” With a wink Boyd was gone, leaving behind nothing but the shiny, golden silk robe fluttering to the ground in his spot. Boyd looked over his shoulder back at Stiles and smirked handsomely, striking a ridiculously attractive pose while facing Stiles, chocolate eyes locked onto amber ones.

 

This is going to be a _long_ class.

 

 


End file.
